In Tune
by Eliza4892
Summary: Post S3 finale. Addison goes to L.A., and Mark follows her, in an attempt to get her back.


A week after Meredith left him, and Burke took off, Addison quits and drives out of Seattle that very same day

A week after Meredith left him, and Burke took off, Addison quits and drives out of Seattle that very same day.

A day after that, Richard warns Derek, Mark, and all the rest of the attendings about quitting anytime in the near future, saying he's lost enough doctors.

An hour after that, Derek goes home to his trailer, and finds two messages on his machine. The first is from Addison, telling him that she's in L.A., that she plans on staying, and that she's glad they were able to put things behind them. The second is from Mark, and Derek can hear the whirring of traffic in the background, as his ex-best friend informs him that he's gone after her.

A minute after that, Derek decides that he really should do something about this.

A second after that, he does.

--

Mark is persistent, stubborn, and bound to do something stupid once he gets to L.A.. He may not be on the best of terms with the man lately, but they had been best friends, and Mark had been there for him during his crisis with Meredith. There is a part of him that feels he owes it to Mark.

Of course, it isn't all about selflessness. Seeing Meredith in the halls, knowing it was over after _everything _they'd been through, gets to him more than he wants to admit. This is a chance to get away from her, from the hospital, from his life. And he has a feeling now that he's lost his girlfriend, and a close friend, he's going to need Mark more than ever.

So he gets in his car and he follows them out there.

--

He can find the irony in the fact that they're going to finally end up settling this triangle on a completely different coast, in a similar big city.

When he gets there, he checks into a hotel, and calls Addison from his cell phone, makes like he's still in Seattle.

"I got your message."

There's a murmur of a voice in the background, male in origin, before Addison asks, "Is there something you needed to say?"

He hesitates. Then, "Good luck."

She mumbles a "thanks" after a few seconds, and then hangs up.

With the dial tone buzzing in his ear, he realizes that she truly has moved on, the man's voice a testament to that.

Mark hasn't found her yet, but it's only a matter of time, which means that Derek needs to find him first, and he needs to do it fast.

--

He finds him, by accident, practically right under his nose.

He's at the hotel bar, ordering a double scotch, single malt, when the bartender laughs and tells him he and the guy at the end of the bar should be drinking buddies. He doesn't even need to look to know that it's Mark.

They have the same taste in everything. Same taste in drinks, in women, and, apparently, in hotels. Out of all the hotels in Los Angeles what are the odds that they'd both end up at the same one?

He grabs his drink and heads to the end of the bar, finding Mark dejected and hunched over his drink, keeping to himself which, considering the traffic of young women that's he's noticed seem to populate this bar, is a miracle in itself.

He takes the stool next to him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm drinking," Mark tells him, raising his glass a half-second before he empties it. From the looks of it, he's been doing just that for awhile. "My turn. What the hell are you doing in L.A.?"

"Making sure you don't do anything stupid," Derek tells him, taking a sip from his glass, thinking that at least one of them should be fully functional for this conversation, and therefore taking it slow with the alcohol.

"All I'm going to do if find Addison and talk her into coming back to Seattle with me." Mark says, like it would all be so easy that all he would have to do was say the word and she would fall into his arms.

"Exactly," Derek replied, figuring his plans were along those lines. Mark wasn't the most clever person when emotions were involved, especially not his own. "Stupid."

"Why did you come here Derek?" Mark asks, sounding almost angry at him. "Why do you care?"

Derek isn't about to show his hand, and he merely answers a question with a question. "Why did you call me?"

Mark shrugs, "Momentary lapse of judgment."

"I don't think so," Derek replies, confident. He knows Mark better than he knows himself, knows his motives, knows his reason, and usually knows what he'll do next. "I think you called me because I'm the only person who can talk you out of doing this and you know it."

"Doing what?" Mark asks, disbelieving, downing yet another drink.

"Trying to talk her out of this. Getting your heart broken." This is easier than it should be, talking like this. "She's moved on Mark."

"No," Mark shakes his head, emphatically, if not overly so. "We're not done."

"Yes, you are." Derek tells him. "Sometimes you just need to let go."

If there's something funny about this Derek doesn't see, but Mark sure does, judging by the barely restrained laughter, edged by bitterness. "What, like you two did? Or like what you and Meredith did."

Derek bites back the comment that comes to mind, swallows hard, and tries again. "Yeah."

Mark looks him straight in the eye then. "Do you still love her?"

He means Meredith, Derek knows that, but his answer could apply to Addison as well, just to a different degree. "Yes."

"And you still let her go?"

He nods, tongue heavy in his mouth, finding himself repeating the answer.

Mark suddenly looks tired, like all the energy has been sucked from him, and Derek decides that it's not a bad time to get him to leave, if just back to his hotel room.

"Give me your key," Derek orders, and Mark fishes it out of the pocket of his jeans. With that in hand, he leads Mark back to his own room.

--

Mark's passed out nearly as soon as he hits the bed, and when he wakes up a full eight hours later Derek is still there, sprawled out on the other side of the bed.

He'd thought about leaving Mark there, about retreating to his own room, but then he'd realized Mark would probably just disregard everything he'd said then, pass it off as a bad dream. From there he'd tried the supposed comfy chair but he couldn't sleep there. He'd wound up on the bed. It wasn't the first time. All night study sessions in college usually produced the same results.

Mark doesn't say all that much at first, just lays there like he's letting it all set in. Derek knows not to push, that he'll talk when he's ready. Right now he's just relieved to have his friend back, perfectly content to bury the gauntlet. They've been friends too long for that affair to be the end of it.

He hears Mark exhale, and Derek knows a second before he does that he's going to break the silence. "She's really gone isn't she?"

Without thinking, Derek reaches a hand out, coming to rest on Mark's arm, a sort of mirror of Mark's own movements a few weeks ago. It's a silent confirmation, both that she is, and that he's not.

That afternoon they put L.A., and her, behind them, and head back to Seattle.


End file.
